Daughter of the Spy
by LissyGoode
Summary: Re-write: same characters, same plot, better story. Raised by some of the best spies in the 21st Century, Mateline Josephine Morgan is a legacy to be feared. When the one Joie relies on most vanishes, can she learn to put her trust in a team of strangers and a man who never wanted her in the first place? (A next gen story)
1. Chapter 1

The white room was freezing, but Joie didn't shiver, didn't shift, didn't complain. In fact, she hadn't sad more than for words in the five hours since they'd found her. After the Academy had been destroyed, new pathways had been created. The tunnels, the secret passages, she knew them all like the back of her hand, even though she had not once stepped foot in the building.

Not until twelve hours ago.

Getting caught was part of her plan, but she had been hoping for a few more hours. There were things she wanted to get done first, and would have, if the student hadn't literally run into her on the way to class. She could feel the bruise forming on her cheek from the combat that had occurred. He had been a good fighter, but Joie had the upper hand. Until the other one came out of nowhere and knocked her out.

Joie's stomach growled and she cursed herself. She had used up her last protein bar on the hike up to the school and hadn't eaten since. For all she wasn't saying, her stomach had just given away a weakness. They could starve her. Starve her until she was weak and begging for food, then, _maybe_ give her a bite if she answered some questions. That's what she would do, if the situation was reversed. What her training had taught her to do. Torture that didn't leave a physical mark.

Her eyes stayed on the mirror, though, her expression as cold as the glass. He was feet away from her, she knew—she could feel it. The closest she had ever been to him, and she was shackled to the floor. In a way, that summed up their whole relationship. She knew he was out there, but could never see him; he knew where she was, and refused to show.

The room's temperature dropped again. Smart. Continue to freeze her out, make her use up whatever conserved energy she had. She really hoped this was a class. A sick part of her reveled at the thought of her ruining his interrogation lesson.

When the door swung open, Joie popped awake. Had she been sleeping? What time was it? A quick check of her mental clock told her it was ten p.m. She had been sitting there for eight hours. Her body was stiff and sore from the fight and the cold, and her stomach felt like a knot in her throat. If they thought they would break her that easy, they had another thing coming.

The student who walked into the room was the same boy who had found Joie in the passage. _Interesting choice_ , she thought, but she could see why they made it. She knew his face, he was familiar to her. She had fought him, so she knew what he could do and had some respect for his skills. He wasn't the one to knock her out, so he was "safe." And then they were playing on the girl side of her brain, too, because he was stunning.

Tall, broad shoulders, dark, neatly trimmed hair that was just a bit messy. He looked like a model on his day off. Any girl would have swooned at the sight of him. Joie was no exception. She had to keep reminding herself he was an operative in training. His looks were as much of an interrogation technique as everything else was.

He set the tray he was holding on the cold steal table and uncovered the plate. Steam wafted into the air, bringing the scent of curry and rice with it. A small, unwarranted sound escaped Joie, and she nearly kicked herself.

"Go ahead," the boy nodded to the food as he sat down across from her, blocking her view of the mirror. When Joie hesitated, he sighed. "It's safe," he promised, taking the spoon and shoveling some in his mouth. "And hot," he breathed, letting the steam leave his mouth before swallowing. "See?"

Joie took the spoon from him and slowly started mixing the food around. "Why?"

"Because you're starving and, obviously, no one else is going to bring you anything." He shrugged, "Look, I'm not saying I want to be BFF or anything, but I would feel kinda bad if you passed or something. Besides, then I wouldn't get interrogation credit."

Joie eyed him for a moment, taking a small bite. It was the best thing she had ever tasted. "You didn't make BFF plural."

"It's already plural, isn't it?" His eyebrows crinkled slightly and he turned from drop-dead-gorgeous to cuddly-cute. He was good.

"It is." She took another bite. "So, you're here to interrogate me?"

"Well, not _now_. Technically," he grinned at her a little, "I'm in my room reading before lights out."

Joie found the words falling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "What are you reading?"

He stood, taking the tray with him, a sly grin on his face, "I'll tell you in the morning."

When Six left the interrogation room, his professor was waiting for him. The man stood leaning against the wall, is arms crossed. He looked casual. A normal person walking past might even think he was relaxed, if they didn't know him. But Six had known this man for years. In some ways, he felt like he knew him better than anyone else at the school. Which was why he was having hard time figuring out why his father figure couldn't be that way to his own daughter.

"Well," he asked, pushing off the wall and matching stride with Six, "does she trust you?"

"Not one ounce," he commented, "but I think she likes me."

"Good." They'd stopped at the elevator as the retina scanner processed them. "You'll bring her breakfast before school starts. Choose carefully. Figure out what you want. Toast says you're concerned about her eating, but—"

"Lacks most nutrition, so she could see that as a way to keep her strength down. Hot meals don't happen that early, so I might have told someone else might know I'm doing this, or I'm trying too hard. Cereal, then. It's easy to get, has nutrition, and who doesn't like cereal?"

They had stepped out of the elevator when the professor turned to Six. "You're doing good. I want you to know that. I'm not going to ask you to hurt her, not in ways I know you can, but we need to find out who she really is."

"You mean," Six crossed his arms, "if she takes after her mother… or yours?"

The professor turned away, "Goodnight, Mr. Hale. I'll see you at class in the morning."

So like that, it was back to a student-teacher relationship. "Goodnight, Professor Townsend."


	2. Chapter 2

Joie had been awake for an hour when the boy came in. She had taken to calling him Grey-eyes in her mind. Not that she thought of him, of course. Just that _when_ she thought of him, she had to call him something. When he set the tray down, she could see the contents. Dry Chex, a glass of milk and a glace of what could have been white grape juice, but she was betting on peach juice.

"How did you know?" She reached for the cup with little hesitation. She didn't trust him, but she didn't think it was this guy's style to spike her food.

"Your dad drinks it every morning, I thought maybe…" he shrugged. Walking around behind her, the boy pulled off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. With her hands shackled, she couldn't put her arms through, but heat suddenly flooded her body.

The boy pulled her hair out from under the collar and let it fan along the jacket. As he did so, his fingers brushed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Joie ignored it and started eating. She tried to keep her attention away from _how_ he was looking at her and focused on _why_ he was doing so. He was trying to find a weakness. Or at least she had thought so.

"You look so much like him," the boy suddenly said. "Zach. It's… if I didn't know, I wouldn't have been able to tell. You're your mother's daughter, alright, but I can see him in you, if I try."

"Funny you should mention my mother," Joie pushed the tray away. "Since she's probably being tortured right now. Not that Zach cares."

The boy sat on the corner of the table, "Why do you say that?"

"He hasn't sent anyone out to look for her. He's not an idiot. He knows the only reason I would— _risk_ seeking him is if Cammie was in trouble. And yet," she stood so she could see the mirror, "he hasn't gone after her. He's just sitting around, playing games!"

The boy grabbed her shoulders hand sat her back down. "You need to calm down. Do you know why he's doing this? He thinks you're crazy."

Joie laugh, "Right. Cause I'm a Goode, and we're all bad."

The boy looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't say _all_ bad…" He leaned closer and Joie stopped breathing, her eyes wide. The boy's hand slid around her neck, pulling her lips to his. There was a soft sound as they met, and Joie's eyes fluttered shut. His free hand drew soft circles on her thigh. "Six," he said softly, as he pulled away. "People call me Six."

"Joie," she choked out, her heart pounding against her chest.

Six grinned as he gathered the tray. "I'll see you in class Joie."

"You actually kissed her?" Cass's voice was a squeal though the comm. unit. "Was it good?"

"Uh, yeah," Six said awkwardly as he stooped to tie his shoe. "I mean, she was tied up and stuff, so it was kinda weird, but not bad."

"Kinky." From across the park, Six watched as Baxter got swatted by his girlfriend.

"I think what my Neanderthal was trying to say," Vogue commented, "is that it's kind of weird that Professor Townsend is throwing you at his daughter."

"Professor Townsend," a voice came over the line, "finds it weird that the four of you would rather fail your assignment and gossip."

"Sorry, sir," Six said quickly.

"Suck up," Cass coughed though her fit of giggles.

"Shut up," Six shot back. As much as he liked having a team he could trust, working with his sister could get a bit touch and go. They spent the rest of the assignment with quiet comm.s and Zach calling the shots. When they got back to the van, Six slumped in the back and closed his eyes.

"Really, though," Cass said from the front seat, "your daughter shows up after sixteen years to tell you your ex-wife is missing and you—what?—shove her in an interrogation room and sick my brother on her? Man, I thought my dad was a deadbeat, but you take the cake."

"Miss Bennet," Zach took a sharp turn, flinging everyone to the side, "mind your tongue."

"Are we seriously not going to look for Cammie?" Vogue asked from under Baxter's arm. "I mean, she's _your_ wife, _my_ Godmother, heck, she even saved Six and Casse's folks a time or three."

"Not to mention my mother's best friend, and one of the best Gallagher girls to ever graduate," Baxter chipped in.

"That's exactly why we're not going after her," Zach explained pulling up to the gate. "Whoever took Cammie— _took Cameron Morgan_. If you think one high school operative team is going to get her back—"

"We can do it." Six finally spoke. "You trained us. Joie was trained by the Morgans, Camerons— _Solomon_ —and God knows who else. If anyone can get Cammie back, it's us."

Zach looked like he wanted to hit something, but finally gave in. "Fine, but I'm not sending you out there half-cocked and I don't trust _her_. We're going to plan, we're going to research, and we're going to find out who Joie really is."

Cass nodded, "Okay."

"Deal," Baxter confirmed.

"Fine," Vogue said, if rather begrudgingly.

"God help us all," Six prayed, closing his eyes again.


End file.
